tes_sandboxfandomcom-20200213-history
User blog:SkyrimsShillelagh/Twelve Stars of Taneth: Chapter 8
Chapter 7 Thanks for reading, please excuse any mistakes. Chapter 7: An Echo of What Was Lost Shayera screamed for a minute straight, before she realized she was lying on the hard, sandy ground of the Gilanean savannah and was surrounded by an army of very confused Janissaries. “Princess Shayera!” One called to her, none daring to get close to even this deactivated gate, which Shayera was lying on her stomach underneath. “Are you alright?” Shayera slowly rose to her feet, holding the stone in her hands. She glanced down at it. It seemed to pulse with a heartbeat of it’s own. You reek of my enemy. The shadow had said. I crossed dimensions and passed through eons of time expecting to find him here, in order to finally destroy the one who destroyed me. And instead I have you. None of that made much sense to Shayera, but the shadow’s words, and it’s otherworldly, haunting voice wouldn’t get out of her head. “Princess?” The Janissary called again. Shayera turned to them, stepping into clear view out from underneath the gate, and thrust the Sigil stone over her head. “It’s shut!” The cheer that went up was deafening. But they wouldn’t have been cheering if they’d seen what she’d seen. “Princess.” An officer said, approaching her. “Where’s the rest of the men that went in with you?” Shayera only grimaced, looking away. “I see.” The officer said stiffly. “Casualties of war. They understood what going in with you meant.” No they didn’t. Shayera thought. They had no idea what it meant. ---- She and the rest of the Janissaries returned to the city with a hero’s welcome. City folk clapped and cheered them on. Oppressors and conquerors today, heroes tomorrow, Shayera guessed. It didn’t matter. If her father had done what he came to do, then the Janissaries would be going home. As she approached the palace though, passing through the grand gardens, she realized something was wrong. A number of Janissaries stood outside the main entrance into Gilane’s great hall, silent, watching. Shayera pushed her way through the crowd, making it to the front. At the top of the massive marble stairway into the hall, the palace doors hung open. No one dared entered. “What’s going on?” Shayera asked. “The Warden instructed we remain outside.” A nearby Janissary explained, saluting to her. “And then entered. We heard the sounds of a fight, and then nothing.” “I will check to see what’s happened. Stay here.” Shayera instructed, heading up the stairs. She was a little winded by the time she passed through the doors, into GIlane’s great hall. She craned her neck to peer at the massive ceiling, in awe, until her eyes landed on two shapes in the center of the oversized room, the smooth floor like an ocean of infinite opaque stone around them. Oh no. Shayera ran, boots clicking on the floor, slowly stopping as she neared. Her father sat with his legs folded, arms rested on his knees, head bowed, next to a body wrapped tightly in two crimson-colored cloaks. “You’re wondering if I did it.” He said hollowing, staring at his shoes. Shayera looked over at him, not speaking. He glanced up, not moving his head, so she could only see a sliver of his eyes. “I didn’t.” “How?” He looked back to the shrouded corpse. “Raine.” Shayera took a heavy breath, unsure how to deal with this. The silence between them seemed as vast as the hall. “You need to go, dad.” “I can’t leave him.” “And you can’t take him, nor can you be seen here. They’ll know the Crimson Archer got in here and a blind man will be able to make the connection if you walk out of here holding Tidon’s body. We have no idea what kind of consequences that will cause. The Janissaries will see to the corpse with respect. You need to go.” “You don’t care about Tidon.” He muttered. Shayera was shocked by the accusation, parting her mouth and leaning back as if his words had slapped her. “Don’t say things like that.” She shot back, offended. He dropped his eyes, giving no apology, but it was clear he hadn’t meant it. Shayera understood he was distraught, and looked for someone to blame. And likely, she knew, that blame would fall on himself. “Leave him here. I can’t…” His jaw clenched as he fought to keep emotions from rising to the surface. “I watched my own son die. And couldn’t do anything to stop it.” “Dad…” “All of this is my fault. Aleera, Raine, Tidon. I put them in the places they are today.” “Don’t blame yourself for their problems. Not after something like this. Remember what you said back in the war room? About them being responsible?” “Well what about me being responsible, Shayera?” He demanded furiously, abruptly standing up. “What about me realizing that maybe you’re all just living out lives directed by mistakes I made.” Shayera wrinkled her nose, not thinking that last sentence made much sense. “What?” “It’s all a mess.” He muttered to himself, pacing away, fidgeting with his hands. “A mess I made.” Shayera wanted to tell him about what she saw inside the gate, about the… shadow thing. But whatever that creature was, it had a history with her father, and she wasn’t sure he could take any more bad news, such as an old enemy that claimed to have been ‘destroyed’ returning. “Dad you have to go. We can deal with this later. I promise to see to Tidon. But for my sake, for everyone back home’s sake, if not your own, please go.” He turned back to look at her, and for a second she wasn’t sure he’d heard a word she’d said, but then he nodded reluctantly. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled, and suddenly a horse named for that very thing, practically appeared in a blur of speed in front of her father. Whistles neighed mournfully, nuzzling the old king with its snout. He gave the stallion a half-hearted pat between its eyes, before clambering into the saddle. His movements were mechanical and forced in a way that Shayera found unsettling, given how much energy the old man usually had. “Home.” Crimson muttered, to Whistles, and the stallion was off, sprinting back out the way it came. Shayera glanced down to the wrapped body of her brother. She and Tidon had never been close, he’d been ten years older than she, but he had still been her brother. She was unsure how to feel about his death, but maybe it just hadn’t set in yet. It did seem unreal. Tidon dead, killed by Raine. Whose fault was this, really? Her father’s? Tidon’s? Aleera’s? Was it anyone’s, or merely the conclusion to something set in motion by a series of events out of just one person’s control. It was difficult to blame someone when you saw how it could be everyone’s fault. You couldn’t even blame the gods, because then that would mean you were giving them the power to decide everything that happened to you. Sometimes, Shayera thought, there wasn’t any blame. Deciding whose fault it was only helped your own conscience, and it was a coward’s way of dealing with things. In the world, sometimes, bad things just happened, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. But that thought made her feel small and powerless. But then again, who didn’t feel that way. ---- Crimson rode hard. Gilane vanished behind him. The sound of hooves thudded over the dirt. Whistles ran like he hadn’t run in years, reaching speeds impossible to any other horse. The world rushed by around Crimson in a blur, and that reflected how he felt. The world was only a blur to him at the moment. Only one thing mattered. A minute ago that had been Tidon’s death. Now it was been reaching Taneth so he could confront Aleera. Tidon’s death was his fault, if he thought about it. But some of the responsibility still lay on Aleera’s shoulders. He could try and blame Raine, but she was just the sword Aleera had poised. No. It was Aleera he needed to face. Aleera he needed to speak to. He sit the burden of Tidon’s death at his own feet, but that didn’t mean those who had caused it got off clean. The deaths that were his fault, that he could’ve prevented. Adder, Juliette, Heartbender, Ishien, and now Tidon. Age and escaping the crown hadn’t allowed him to avoid this. No matter how hard he tried to run from his problems, they always managed to follow. The guilt of knowing he could’ve prevented it somehow. Guilt that ate him up inside, guilt that was a physical emptiness inside him, that he tried to force away but remained like a weight in his stomach. Nights spent awake, staring at the ceiling, filled with shame and self-loathing at his own weakness. If only had been quicker, standing in a different spot, had said something different instead of what he had. All the “if only’s.” So many regrets in his life, and all of them began with “if only I’d done this differently.” Old age was supposed to bring you peace. But all it did was confront Crimson with more of his failures. And now there would be more nights spent in silence and sleeplessness as he wondered how he could’ve saved Tidon’s life, how he could’ve avoided that one horrible moment when all his weakness, self-hate, and inability climaxed in his son’s death. Crimson didn’t need anyone to tell him he was a failure, he didn’t Aleera or anyone else to tell him how all the problems of the world were his fault. Because Crimson knew they were. And no one could ever hate him more than he hated himself. Whistles hooves skidded to a stop, clicking on paving stones. They were outside the gates that lead up to the palace. The guards standing there looked up at him expectantly. He’d left his cloak and mask behind in GIlane. His leather jerkin and crimson clothe underneath only marked him as dressed strangely, and Crimson had always been known for being eccentric. The palace loomed at the top of the road, something foreboding, not a home, not the place where he’d raised his children. He dismounted Whistles, but the horse didn’t make his way to the stables. He hung by Crimson, prancing nervously. The horse sensed his bad mood. “Go.” Crimson ordered. Whistled whinnied, and marched reluctantly away. Crimson climbed the stairs to the doors into the palace. Two guards stood in the way. When he approached the door, one held out his hand to stop him. “My apologies, Lord Sahir, but you are not permitted to enter.” The Archer glared at him, clearly not in the mood to be stopped. “On the Lady of Taneth’s order, I’m guessing?” “Yes, my lord.” “Well let me tell you what, thing number one.” Crimson said, climbing the stairs to get right up in the guard’s face, and the man leaned back, unsure how to deal with this. Laying his hands on Crimson would mean having them removed, by law, but he wasn’t allowed to back down either. “The Captain-General, Gir-Thuk, the big orc, your boss, who you all tell drinking stories, about was my second in command. When I was in charge of this massive dick-compensator you’ve got your back to, we had lunch every day. I’m his daughter’s godfather, and I paid for both his kids ta get into the Imperial University. So you can follow your orders and stop me from entering, but Aleera’s not even going to notice when I have you two fired and make sure the next guard duty you get is your own assholes in Imperial Prison.” The guard swallowed nervously. His partner was shaking. Crimson cocked his head and gave a forced smile. “What’s it going to be?” The guard pushed the door open for him. “Please enter, milord.” “Thought so.” Crimson muttered, storming into the palace, and kicking the door closed behind himself so that it slammed shut. ---- “He’s coming.” Julius noted, peering out the window. “I wish you’d told us first, Aleera.” Hakim said, leaning over the war table, surveying the map. “Before you gave the order. This should’ve been a council decision.” “So you could’ve wasted time debating about it?” Aleera snorted. “Even if captured Tidon, he’s still a traitor, royalty or not. Law says we execute him, and we need to look like we can police our own. At best, he’s exiled. This was quicker, doesn’t waste time or gold, and it cleans up after itself. Sure, you can be upset at me like a child for not ‘including’ you, Hakim, but that doesn’t make what I did wrong.” “No, what makes it wrong is you had our brother murdered.” Conner muttered, leaning against the back wall, arms folded. Aleera understood why he was upset. Tidon had been the one he’d looked up to. He’d probably been hoping their father’s plan to convince Tidon would work. “He got past the guards.” Julius said from the window. “I told you we should’ve given them stricter orders.” “No, he would’ve just come through the window.” Aleera shrugged, indifferently. “Besides this needs to happen. Now when he gets here, keep quiet. Don’t mess this up.” “Don’t think this can be messed up anymore than it already is.” Conner muttered. “Shut up, Conner.” Aleera said, tiredly. “You whining is beginning to become annoying instead of cute.” “Fuck you.” Conner spat. Aleera turned, like to tear Conner a new one, but then the war room doors were shoved open. Aleera faced them, her eyes catching sight of her father first. His were already locked onto her. “Surprised ya managed ta keep the doors shut.” Crimson noted. “It reeks of stupid in here.” He sniffed in Aleera’s direction. “Oh yeah, awful.” He stepped into the room, approaching her. “What were you thinking? Or were you thinking? Your own brother, Aleera? You’ve got serious explaining I do.” Aleera frowned. “No.” Her father’s eyes grew more intense than she’d ever seen them. She didn’t think she ever seen him ever truly this angry until this moment. It was surprising, but not hard to deal with. “No?” “No.” Aleera said, folding her hands before her, approaching the war table. “Because I don’t answer to you.” “Oh yes you do.” “Actually, I don’t. I haven’t for a long time. We’ve just merely never clashed before.” Aleera toyed with with one of the figures, one of those representing the Janissaries, still stationed in Gilane’s portion of the map. “You’re not going to do anything about Tidon’s death. In fact, you’re going to step back and allow me to resume full control.” “Well of course, my lady, do ya also want a foot rub and some tea with that load of shit ya just fed me? Why would I do that?” “I’ll tell you. Firstly, you no longer have any say in this council. You position was honorary, and now your voice is no longer welcome.” “You heard what Shayera said. I’m here or she leaves. Shayera-” “''Shayera'',” Aleera began, her voice rising to overpower his, “can no longer hold this council hostage.” She placed the Janissary figure near Taneth. “With the Janissaries back under our control, we no longer need to rely on the Keshik for elite fighters. My personal guard will now watch the war room, and prevent you from entering or listening at the door. The Captain-General has already agreed to this, albeit reluctantly, as he respects the power my position grants me.” Crimson blinked, obviously not expecting that. He opened his mouth, prepared for a follow up, by Aleera continued to speak. “I’ve also issued a warrant for the Crimson Archer’s arrest.” “''What''?!” “He’s a mercenary leader who murdered a member of Taneth’s royal family.” Aleera said, looking at him, wondering what was so astonishing about that. “He was seen entering the palace and when he left the Warden Tidon al Din was dead. If he ever shows his face, or mask, again, the Taneth garrison has orders to arrest him immediately.” “Aleera,” He began softly, unsure how to deal with what he was hearing, but she spoke over him again. “I told you to go home. You refused. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you’ve forced my hand. Without a place on the war council, and without ability to act as an unauthorized militant force in the city, there is little you can do here. If old King Sahir were seen running around shooting arrows, it would doubtlessly raise questions.” “You can’t do this.” Crimson protested, for once in his life not knowing how to talk his way out of a situation. “I can.” Aleera said, turning to face him, and Crimson now saw the dangerous edge, ruthless edge to her stately manner. She was a politician to her core, and holding onto her power was what was important to her. “And I have. You gave me the best tudors Hammerfell gold can buy. You and mother taught me everything you knew. It is only natural I would eventually out play you.” Crimson only shook his head. “As if it was a game.” “Go home, dad.” Aleera said, her tone more genuine. “You don’t need to be here anymore. You came out here to help us deal with Tidon, and now your help is no longer needed. I’m sorry.” Crimson looked over his shoulder as footsteps sounded behind him. Two members of Aleera’s personal guard had entered the room, taking up position on either side of him, both large, powerfully built Redguard men. They wore dark green uniforms over ebony chainmail, a longsword in a baldric sheath across their back, and a parrying dagger belt to their thigh. Aleera’s personal crest, the Lady sign done in an artistic rendering, sat on their breast. “So this is how it’s going to be?” He asked Aleera, turning his head back to her. She shrugged. “It is you who makes it this way.” He nodded, holding his hands briefly in surrender. “Alright. I’ll go.” He turned to leave, one of the guards setting a hand on his arm to escort him out. “Hey, which clinic do ya want me to send your buddy to?” Crimson asked the other guard, to which the first removed the hand from his arm. They exited, the guards closing the doors behind them. “You played him.” Conner said after a moment of silence. “You played him right from the start. You knew he’d be going after Tidon that way. You used his idea to distract Tidon, so you could move Raine into position, and then decide how to get rid of dad.” “Even I’m not that good, Conner. I can’t plan on everything that might happen, I can only account for it. But I’m very adaptable.” “Adapt to this.” Conner said, striding forward to the war table, and tearing the sash and badge of the Taneth military commander from his chest. He tossed them onto the table. Aleera watched him do it impassively, her eyes staying on where the badge landed in the middle of Sentinel. “Get a different sibling to help you plan your murders.” He said, nearly snarling at her. “I’m through.” He stormed out, throwing the heavy doors open, and then letting them shut with a clatter behind himself. “That was dramatic.” Julius noticed, coming to the table. “I’ll speak with him later. He’s just upset now, he’ll calm down and see he can do more good as commander than otherwise. Aleera nodded. “You can both go now.” Julius and Hakim glanced at each other, before filing out. Aleera looked around the empty war room, before quietly crossing to the window, and peering out. Aleera grinned as she slid the last block in place, her tower complete. “Papa.” She called, causing the lavishly dressed man in a nearby longue chair flipping through a thick book to look up. “What’s that?” “I built a tower!” Aleera said proudly, standing next to the three foot structure that she only had a foot on, which must’ve taken a solid hour or two of work. “Where?” Crimson asked, narrowing his eyes. “Right here!” “I don’t see anything.” He pointed at a discarded block by her feet. “That’s your tower? Aleera, come on, you can do better than that.” She picked up the block and threw it at him, which he lifted his hand to deflect, and began to laugh. The Lady of Taneth frowned, turning away from the window, and heading out of the war room as well. ---- Crimson plodded through the palace hallways, dejectedly, head bowed, until someone came and found him. “Lord Sahir?” “Unfortunately.” The woman gave him a puzzled look at his answer, before continuing. “Your servant, Jeremias?” Crimson perked up, staring up at the woman. She wore the robes of a healer. “What about him?” “He’s awake.” Crimson reached out and clasped the woman’s hand in both of his, which he shook furiously. “Thank you. I’ll make sure someone showers you in gold for this, I will. Physical gold, not piss.” “Don’t shower me in gold yet.” The healer said, taking her hand back. “I didn’t do anything. His body fought it off on it’s own.” Crimson frowned. “Fought what off?” “The poison. It just worked its way out of his system.” She must’ve seen Crimson’s expression, because she continued with, “It was harmless amount. A concentrated dose of canis root. All it did was make him comatose.” Crimson scratched his head, thinking of the implications. “Well, how he get a poisoned by that? We were on a farm, and he was one of only three people there.” “Maybe he took it himself?” The healer suggested. “I don’t know. What I do know, is that he’s fine. No side-effects at all. However, he got it, it was on purpose.” ---- Shayera hurried into Jeremias’ room, as soon as she arrived back from Gilane. The Janissaries were handling Tidon’s body, and would escort it back to Taneth for burial in the royal crypt. A servant she’d order to inform her of any going on’s in the palace had told her of Jeremias’ awakening on her arrival. Her father was sitting in a chair by the bed, leafing through a book. The servant was fast asleep, the sheets up under his chin. “I came as fast I could.” She said. “I heard he was awake.” “I know, Shayera.” Her father said, his voice stopping her cold in her tracks. “Jeeves told me.” “Look, he agreed--” “I don’t care why he did it. He just wanted to see me out of the house.” He said, setting the book aside and rising from the chair. “What I do care about is being manipulated by my own daughter.” “Dad, I can explain--” “I don’t want, explanations.” He continued, his tone hard, turning to face her. “What I wanted was to be left in peace on my farm. Instead I came back here, and things are going to be worse than when I left them.” “Dad, don’t think like that.” “Save it, Shayera.” He said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand, as he moved to sit back down. “I’m so done. Just leave me alone right now. We can talk later.” “Dad…” She started, but he had opened his book again, and was pretending she wasn’t there, since he wasn't actually reading it. The latter was obvious because the book was upside down. Ducking her head, she turned and left. Sometimes, bad things just happened. But everyone once in a while, there really was someone to blame. END OF PART 8 Chapter 9 Category:Blog posts Category:Twelve Stars of Taneth Category:Stories